


play it again

by nepetrel



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Belligerent Sexual Tension, Kissing, M/M, set vaguely mid-series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nepetrel/pseuds/nepetrel
Summary: Quark is behaving strangely. Odo takes it upon himself to investigate.
Relationships: Odo/Quark (Star Trek)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 147
Collections: Star Trek Holidays 2019





	play it again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DHW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DHW/gifts).



The first thing Odo said to Kira when she entered his office was, “have you noticed anything odd about Quark?” 

He regretted his haste a moment later, but Kira just raised an eyebrow at him before slouching into her usual seat and picking up the mug of tea he’d prepared for her. “Good morning to you, too, Constable,” she said, swinging one boot and then the other onto the edge of his desk. “No, I haven’t seen Quark since last night, and he acted like his usual scummy self. Why?” 

“It’s nothing,” Odo said. “He was just acting...odd.” 

Odd was an understatement. In his years as head of station security, Odo had gotten very good at reading the usual suspects, chief among them Quark. He knew what Quark looked like when he was scheming, hiding something, pretending to hide something in order to hide something else, faking confusion, and genuinely confused – but Quark had never taken one look at him, turned red, and turned tail. At least, not until last night. 

It was something new, and if Odo knew anything, it was that new behavior from Quark rarely meant anything good. 

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you can figure it out,” Kira said, a genuine smile coming to her face. “You always get your man.”

“That’s right,” Odo said dryly, “I _always_ do.” 

Kira laughed and picked up her PADD, and the question of Quark was dismissed for the rest of their meeting. 

Odo didn’t stop thinking about it, however. He never could let something go when it nagged at him. It was part of what made him a good investigator. After Kira left, Odo pulled up the logs of Quark’s communications and scanned through them for anything odd. He’d checked last night, of course, but Quark had a thousand and one contacts, each worse than the one before, and they all had the annoying habit of sending subspace communications late in DS9’s day cycle, as if that would keep Odo from intercepting them. 

Other than the usual mass of spam that Ferengi traders regularly sent each other, Quark only had two messages. One was an order confirmation from Garak. Odo had been keeping an eye on that association since it started, but as far as he could tell it really was about getting more of those brightly patterned coats Quark loved so much, not about Garak’s other skill sets. The other was from someone en route from Bajor - a Ferengi named Kono, who implied some kind of familial relationship in his communication. 

Quark had so many so-called relatives that Odo kept a chart of them on his PADD, but this one he knew from the other chart he kept on Quark, the one on his criminal associations. Kono was a cousin on Quark’s father’s side and, more importantly, a thief. Kira had caught him trying to sell stolen merchandise while Odo had been in the Gamma quadrant a few years back. Stealing from the Cardassians was always messy business, but Kono had apparently brokered some kind of deal with them and the Federation both, as he had no open arrest warrants in the entire quadrant. 

Odo flagged that communication for further study and noted Kono’s planned arrival time, but he knew that wasn’t it. Quark hadn’t been skulking around in his usual fashion, protesting his innocence with wide, piercing eyes while his hands kept moving - he’d been genuinely rattled. Maybe someone was trying to kill him again. It wasn’t exactly difficult for Odo to believe someone was feeling genuinely murderous towards Quark, not after knowing him for so many years. But in that case, why hadn’t Quark come whinging to Odo, begging and conniving in his usual shameless fashion?

Maybe it was nothing. It was just one odd encounter, after all. But Odo’s instincts told him something was wrong, and he’d learned to trust them. 

In any case, he wasn’t getting any closer to the truth sitting there. Odo took a moment to rearrange the beta shift duty roster before standing. Perhaps he’d be able to shake some answers out of the suspect in question. 

A planetside bar would be quiet and empty at this time in the morning, but Quark’s had some unfortunate soul or another nursing a drink at the bar twenty-eight hours a day, except for when Quark was forced to close because of a murder attempt or pest infestation. Still, many of the species who inhabited DS9 still valued the structure of a normal day, no matter how artificial, and so it was much emptier and quieter in the bar than it would be come “night,” to Odo’s immense relief. He only had to pass by a few off-duty Starfleet officers clustered in one corner and a group of Terellians around the dabo table to slide over to the bar beside Morn. “Quark,” he ground out, arms crossed.

On the other side of the bar, Quark kept cleaning a glass with a rag without bothering to look up. “Didn’t I tell you, Morn?” He said. “I can’t so much as sneeze without him popping up. I’m lucky he’s not the glass this time.” 

He looked completely composed, dressed in a leopard-print coat that faded from magenta at the collar to a deep red at its tails. His hands moved without a single stutter and his expression was unconcerned. 

Odo crossed his arms, frowning. “You’re in a better mood today than you were last night,” he grumbled.

Finally, Quark looked at him, frowning back. “Last night? You mean when you stalked in here and glared at me for no good reason, just like you do every day, before swanning off without buying so much as a dabo token? That would put anyone in a bad mood. And look, here you are again to put me right back in it. Don’t you have criminals to harass?”

“That’s what I’m doing right now,” Odo said. “And I meant later, when you were leaving the bar. Around 2600 hours.” As he said it, he realized that was odd, too - Quark was more likely to sleep during the day and stay at the bar during its busiest hours, not leave before midnight. 

Sure enough, Quark just blinked at him. “I didn’t see you when I left the bar.” 

“Of course not,” Odo said, making sure to let a little sarcasm bleed into his tone. If Quark cared about anything other than latinum, he might have made a good investigator. He would certainly get suspicious over such an obvious discrepancy. Better to let him think he hadn’t seen Odo because Odo had been impersonating a bar fixture at the time. “Thank you, Quark, you’ve been very helpful.”

“Oh,” Quark said, hand fluttering sarcastically over his chest, “it’s my pleasure.”

The worst thing was that Quark _had_ been helpful, but he’d done it by giving Odo more questions than answers - typical of him, really. He’d also made the problem more alarming. Instead of it merely being a case of Quark acting strangely, which Odo noted so frequently that Sisko had asked Odo not to include those incidents in his normal report, it seemed there might be an impostor on the station.

For all that Odo sometimes resented Starfleet’s intrusions on the station, he could at least appreciate that they had a standard procedure for impostors, bodily possession, and mirror universe inhabitants. Odo informed Sisko first, of course, stepping back into his office to tap his combadge.

Other Starfleet officials might have dismissed Odo out of hand, but Sisko knew better. “You’re sure he didn’t remember running into you?”

“I’m sure the Quark I spoke to this morning _didn’t_ run into me,” Odo said.

Odo heard the quiet thump of Sisko throwing and catching his baseball as he thought. “Keep an eye on the situation, Constable,” Sisko said. “And keep me informed.” 

“I always do,” Odo said.

It wasn’t much, but Odo liked procedure, as long as it wasn’t getting in his way. It calmed him to have a strict order to things. 

That calm lasted until he looked up and saw Quark striding through the hall. 

Odo was out of his seat in an instant. A moment later, he cut off Quark’s path. “In a hurry to go somewhere, are we?” He asked, looking Quark over. 

Quark looked the same as he always did - darting eyes, sharp fangs, huge ears. Only the widening of his eyes suggested panic, and he was wearing a different coat from the one Odo had seen him wearing less than an hour ago, this one dark red with gold threads shimmering throughout. 

“Odo!” Quark exclaimed in a tone that meant he was especially nervous, high-pitched and squeaky. His voice only got higher-pitched and squeakier as Odo grabbed him by the lapels, manhandling him against the wall to loom over him. 

Quark cowered, like usual. But he did it in an odd way - his shoulders hunched the same way they always did, but he tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and parted his lips. 

Odo stared. If this was an impostor, it was either a very good one or a very, very bad one.

After a long moment in which nothing happened, Quark opened his eyes, looking - annoyed? Relieved? Both, Odo decided. “Aren’t you going to - ” Quark started, then fell silent. 

“Aren’t I going to _what_?” Odo asked, exasperated. He had no idea what was going on, and he didn’t particularly like it. 

But Quark didn’t answer. Even when Odo tightened his grip on Quark’s lapels and shoved him into the wall harder, Quark just whimpered, staring up at him. 

Odo wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but he usually got a certain amount of satisfaction from shoving Quark around. He didn’t usually like getting physical with suspects, but Quark was different. Maybe it was because he needed a little shoving around to make him behave, if only for five minutes at a time. Or maybe it was because, though Quark did a very good job of feigning submission in response, it didn’t really have any effect on his overall behavior, which was gratifyingly consistent, if annoying. 

Right now, though, Odo didn’t feel satisfied at all. The mystery of it was gnawing at him. “Come on,” he said, not letting go of Quark’s lapels, “you’re going to see Dr. Bashir.” 

Quark at least whined in his usual fashion on the way there - how dare he harass an upstanding member of the community, Quark was innocently going about his business, Odo was going to receive an official complaint, the works. Odo had heard it all so many times that he could finish Quark’s sentences if he so chose. It was all so routine that Odo knew what Bashir’s conclusion would be before Bashir delivered it.

“He’s Quark, all right,” Bashir said. “No signs of cloning, interference from energy beings, implanted memories, or psychic attacks.”

“ _Thank_ you, doctor,” Quark said in his best aggrieved voice, pulling on his coat to fix some imaginary rumpling. “If that’s all, I assume I’m free to go?”

Odo was tempted to throw him in a cell just in case, but Sisko tended to frown on that sort of thing, so instead he waved sarcastically at the exit. Quark glowered at him as he stalked past and Odo glowered back. 

The second Quark was out of the room, Odo turned on his heel and followed him, ignoring Bashir’s sigh behind him. 

Odo had changed forms before the doors finished sliding open. As a fly, it was simple to catch up to Quark and attach himself to the back of his coat. The harder part was keeping track of where they were going. Flies didn’t have good long-range vision. Still, it was clear from the heavy tread of Quark’s heels on metal that they were headed away from the Promenade and Quark’s bar. Odo thought they were headed towards an observation deck. 

Once Quark stopped, Odo melted into the wall - or, more accurately, _onto_ the wall as part of its surface. It was easier to see without having a pair of eyes he felt obligated to pass the input through, so he could see with perfect clarity as Quark stood in front of one of the large windows that looked out into space, face pensive.

Odo had never understood the humanoid obsession with staring out into space. Possibly he subconsciously remembered floating through it as an infant for an unknown span of time and that diminished the appeal. But Quark was hardly the type to look out into space for a sense of wonder unless he thought he could bottle and sell it. Even now, he didn’t seem to really be taking in what he was looking at. It was just something for his eyes to do as his hand rose to his mouth. 

He touched his bottom lip with two fingers, worrying it as if he could feel something there that could be rubbed off. Then he shook his head and took something out of his pocket. 

It was a gray box shaped like a rounded pyramid with the tip cut off, just small enough to fit in the palm of Quark’s hand. There was a glowing pink oval on the center of each face with lines emanating out from it to the edges. It was odd-looking, but Odo felt an instinctive unease at its presence that went deeper than its appearance. Whatever this item was, it was bad news. 

Quark seemed to think so too, though for different reasons. “Come on,” he muttered, shaking it. When that had no effect, he tried hitting it against the wall instead, which also did absolutely nothing. Quark groaned. “Unbelievable. It’s a single-use item.” He paused. Then, much more cheerfully, he said, “it’ll be a good source of repeat customers, at least.” 

With that, he went to stuff it back into his coat pocket, only to find his wrist caught halfway there. 

Odo had only materialized the hand necessary to grip Quark, but now he pulled himself completely off of the wall, stepping down in his normal form. Quark groaned at the sight of him and tugged fruitlessly at his wrist. “I should have known you’d follow me,” Quark sneered, still pulling uselessly against Odo’s iron grip. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” 

“This is my _job_ , Quark,” Odo said, suddenly annoyed. Quark often had that effect on him. 

Quark seemed just as annoyed back, his eyes flashing. “Your job? Is your job why you did _this_?” 

With his free hand, he grabbed a handful of Odo’s uniform shirt and used it as leverage to pull Odo down and smash their mouths together. 

Odo almost lost his footing from the surprise alone, barely managing to steady himself with an arm around Quark’s shoulderblades as he kissed back. Quark’s mouth was hot and wet against his, pulling him in with desperate intensity. The way it moved against his made it impossible not to respond. Odo’s mouth had been formed as roughly as the rest of his face, without particular attention to structure beyond what was necessary for speech, but it felt like he had made it just for this. 

Quark broke off the kiss, panting, using the hand that was still on Odo’s chest to abruptly shove him away, eyes wide. 

Odo found himself panting too, even though he technically didn’t need to breathe. He couldn’t help but bring a hand to his own lips in unconscious imitation of Quark’s earlier gesture. “What was _that_?” He asked, stunned.

“Don’t ask me, you started it!” Quark snapped. He touched his own mouth again, as if he couldn’t understand what it had done. Then he turned on his heel and scurried away. 

Odo couldn’t do anything except watch him go, completely rattled. Quark couldn’t have touched him for a whole minute, and yet Odo still felt his presence on his lips and against his chest as if he’d left a permanent impression. It was a long moment before he remembered that he was investigating Quark, and also about that strange box he’d meant to confiscate. Odo snorted. “Ridiculous,” he scoffed, and he didn’t know if he meant himself or Quark.

It was obviously some form of distraction tactic - unscrupulous, but highly effective, which described Quark himself perfectly as well. Except that when Odo finally shook himself and made to leave, his foot hit something, which he bent down to retrieve. 

The box looked even smaller in his hand than it had looked in Quark’s, but no less unsettling. Odo tilted it carefully, examining it, but there was no denying it - it was the same thing Quark had been holding. He’d dropped it, presumably at the same moment that Odo himself had found it impossible to keep his mind on it. 

“Ridiculous,” Odo repeated, closing his fingers around the box. But he didn’t sound any more convincing to himself the second time. 

He took the box to Chief O’Brien, who prodded it, irradiated it, and finally pronounced it empty. “There was something strange inside it at one point, you can be sure about that,” he said, “but whatever it was, it’s gone now. There’s nothing special about the box itself.”

“Any idea what was inside it?” Odo asked.

O’Brien shrugged. “Beats me.”

Odo turned away, growling wordlessly. He knew he was overreacting, but he was annoyed at more than just the box. When he turned back, O’Brien was watching him with an uneasy expression, which was quickly morphing into one of dread. Odo knew this one well - it was the _I don’t want to ask him what’s wrong, but I’m going to have to, aren’t I_ face. 

To save them both that fate, Odo thanked O’Brien hurriedly and took back the box. If Engineering couldn’t provide him with any answers, that only left him with what had been his first instinct after Quark had run away regardless - to run after him and shake him until some answers fell out of him.

The station computer told him that Quark was back at his bar, but when Odo entered, it was clearly the wrong Quark. This one was in the magenta coat still and didn’t panic at all when Odo walked in, which only made Odo even more irritated. Odo was still feeling rather panicked himself, and like a bad mood, he’d prefer to spread it around. So when Quark ducked behind the bar to head to the storeroom, Odo followed him. 

“Looking for something, Quark?” Odo said, just to watch him jump. 

Quark did, which was always gratifying, but then he settled. “Of course I’m looking for something,” Quark said, flinging an arm out to gesture at his storeroom. “Right now, it’s more Acamarian brandy. The Terellians love the stuff for some reason. Later on it’ll probably be some Andorian ale. After that, who knows?”

“You’re sure you’re not looking for this?” Odo asked, brandishing the box at him.

Quark leaned in close to look at it, completely unconcerned. Odo felt every inch he came closer like a charge between them and had to fight not to step back. 

“Interesting design,” Quark finally said. “You could probably sell it as a collectible for a slip of latinum.” Then he leaned back. He still stood close, but the distance between them seemed to yawn open. 

Odo couldn’t stop noticing it. Quark didn’t seem to notice at all. It seemed unfair to Odo that he could be so unperturbed when Odo’s own agitation was all Quark’s fault - even if it wasn’t the same Quark. 

Odo grabbed Quark by the shoulder and crowded him against a wall. Quark always seemed to become more pliant with Odo looming over him. But now, despite a minute widening of Quark’s eyes, Odo felt like the one who was being cornered. 

“Quark,” he said, one hand still on Quark’s shoulder, the other pressed flat to the wall above his head. He meant it to come out as a growl, but instead it came out soft, and Odo had no idea what to say after it.

There wasn't enough space between them. It was making it impossible to think, looking at Quark’s face from this close, feeling the rise and fall of his chest through his coat. But Odo was the one who’d gotten this close, and he couldn’t make himself back away.

Quark stared up at him, annoyed expression changing into one of concern. “Odo, are you alright?” He asked, that insolent mouth of his hanging open after.

Odo didn’t know if it was the tone of his voice, or the look on his face, or just _him_ , but he couldn’t stand it anymore. He straightened up and took Quark with him, ignoring Quark’s cry of surprise as he hauled him up until he was pressed against the wall, feet dangling in the air. “You - ” _drive me absolutely mad_ , Odo didn’t say, because he’d closed the distance between their bodies and kissed Quark. 

Immediately, Odo knew he’d miscalculated. Quark’s body felt like a line of fire against his, making heat rise to the surface where they were pressed together - and that was everywhere. Quark’s mouth was so hot against his, and so _wet_ , slick and yielding. Quark was light enough that Odo could keep him against the wall with his body alone, but Odo tightened his grip on his shoulder. Without meaning to, his other hand rose to Quark’s ear, closing _hard_ around the delicate lobe, and he felt Quark’s shocked gasp travel between their lips. 

Odo startled and let go of Quark all at once. It felt like it should have been harder than it was, with how thoroughly they’d been attached, but then Odo was a foot away and Quark was in a heap on the ground, coat hopelessly disheveled, staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Odo couldn’t stop thinking about that mouth. 

His own mouth worked soundlessly for a second, and then he turned and left.

“Odo?” He heard Quark say behind him, voice cracking. 

Odo turned into a Tarkalean hawk and left _faster_.

That had been a mistake. No, something worse than that. Before, Odo had been distracted. Now, he was consumed. 

He was very tempted to revert to his gelatinous state early. Things were so much simpler in that form, when he didn’t have a solid shape to press against things, or a mouth to -

Instead, he returned to his office. Two of his security officers had caught a man spraypainting graffiti on the Promenade and there was a discrepancy in the paperwork of one of the freighters that had docked earlier in the day. A brief scan of their flight logs suggested that it was probably nothing, but Odo sent a message to one of his officers to keep an eye on it anyway. 

Kono had also sent Quark another message, this one hinting unsubtly about some “merchandise” he was excited to show him. In the recording, Kono actually lifted his hands and made quotation marks in the air as he said “merchandise.” 

Odo rubbed his forehead. Usually, this was just the sort of thing that would cheer him up - an opportunity to swoop in, confiscate some contraband, and maybe throw Quark in a cell where he could keep an eye on him for a while. But right now, seeing Quark felt like a bad idea, largely because Odo wanted to so badly. 

His hand hovered over his combadge. Kono clearly wasn’t the brightest criminal around. If he put some of his officers on it, Odo had every confidence that they’d be able to handle the situation without a problem. Odo could stay in his office and distract himself with security reports, or go back to his quarters and either practice shapeshifting or fix whatever Dax had done to his furniture, assuming she’d had the opportunity to break in and ruin his very precise organization again. It was a big station with a lot of miscreants; Odo could find a thousand things to do that didn’t involve Quark. 

But he wasn’t going to, and that was the problem, wasn’t it. 

Odo appreciated order whether it was already there or he had to impose it himself. He valued his routine and felt a deep sense of peace when things were where they were supposed to be, or when he put them there himself. 

So in some senses, following Quark around while he made his criminal dealings was soothing. Quark was predictable in his habits. Even when he had some complicated scheme running for Odo to unravel, he’d stick to the same two or three meeting places, and conduct those meetings in more or less the same way.

With family members or other easily exploitable associates, Quark tended to hold meetings in the bar’s back room. It held several spare tables and Quark’s extra glassware, but Quark clearly didn’t feel the need to offer Kono a drink, instead crossing his arms at his cousin from the other side of the largest table. That was for the best; Odo had taken the form of a glass between them, and he didn’t know what he’d do if Quark raised him to his lips. 

Quark was wearing the dark red coat, but Odo thought he’d just changed; it sat stiffly on his shoulders, like Quark hadn’t loosened the starch enough yet. And of course he’d changed - Odo had gotten his coat dirty in the storeroom before, and Quark wouldn’t let himself be seen in a coat in that condition.

The thought was distracting, but not distracting enough to keep a suspicion from forming. It was one Odo didn’t like. 

“This better be good, Kono,” Quark said. “Those carvings you brought me last time landed me in hot water for months.” 

“That had nothing to do with the carvings!” Kono protested. “And it wasn’t my fault, either. This station you live on has too much security.” His eyes darted around. “They’re not going to come here today, are they?”

“And do what, interrupt a perfectly normal reunion between family members?” Quark asked. “I’d say you worry too much, but you nearly got me thrown into a Federation penal colony last time, so maybe you don’t worry enough.” 

If Odo recalled correctly, Kira had thrown Quark in the brig for all of one day, as he had never actually been in contact with any of the stolen items and therefore had not actually done anything illegal. But that was just like Quark, exaggerating for a discount before he even saw the merchandise. 

It had the intended effect, anyway - Kono’s whole face drooped. But he recovered quickly. All Ferengis seemed to when they had a sale to make. “Whatever happened before, it’ll all be worth it for this,” he said proudly, taking something out of his jacket and slapping it on the table between them, right next to Odo. 

It was a little gray box, shaped like a rounded pyramid with its tip cut off.

Odo didn’t even _have_ a head at the moment, but he still felt a headache beginning to form.

Quark paused, then picked the box up carefully. He’d clearly recognized it as the one Odo had waved in his face earlier. “It looks like a replicated toy,” he finally said, tone dismissive, before he set it down on the table again. He kept his hand near it, though. Odo had made a mistake in showing it to him before - now, Quark was interested. 

Kono was beyond interested; he was practically vibrating in excitement. “It is,” he said, then paused for effect. Quark just stared at him, unimpressed, until he continued. “A time travel device!”

Sometimes, Odo hated being right.

“A - what?” Quark asked, hand moving to the box again, apparently unconsciously.

Kono nodded, puppylike in his enthusiasm. “While I was looking at artifacts on Cardassia V, I saw they had this big box there from Bajor. I was just going to go for the bone carvings, but then I heard the Cardassians talking about how it had to do with the profit, so I knew I had to try and take it too! But I couldn’t beam it out, and it took me forever to replicate anything out of the pattern buffer…”

“The pro - you moron! It had to do with _The Prophets_!” Quark said.

Kono just blinked at him. “That’s what I said.” 

Quark groaned. Undeterred, Kono continued. “The big version of the box that the Cardassians had, there was some kind of Bajoran legend about it, that you could open it up and travel in time. So I made a little version that does that too! You just shake it, and if it works, it works.” 

“ _If_ it works, it works?” Quark repeated, narrow-eyed. 

Kono opened his mouth to respond, but Odo had heard enough. He turned back into his humanoid form right there on the table.

Startled, both Ferengis drew back - but Quark took the little box with him, jostling it as it crashed against his chest, and then he was gone, vanished into thin air. 

Or, more likely, vanished into the past. 

With one target of his ire conveniently beyond his reach, Odo turned to the one remaining. Kono had turned tail to run, but Odo stretched his arm out to cover the few feet between them and hauled him back in by the back of his coat. 

“So I heard you were trying to evade station security,” Odo growled. “Do you have any more of these…'little boxes'?” 

Kono gulped. 

As it turned out, he had a handful. Odo took Kono down to a cell and the boxes up to Sisko’s office, where Dax picked up one after the other and shook them until Kira snatched them out of her hands. 

Sisko examined one thoughtfully, careful not to shake it. “A time travel device,” he said wonderingly. “And he said it had something to do with the Prophets?” 

“It sounds like the Orb of Time,” Kira said. “The Cardassians stole it during the occupation, then claimed they lost it. Somehow, I think they’re going to miraculously find it very soon.”

“I’ll make sure that they do,” Sisko promised, his eyes dark and determined. 

Despite Dax’s best efforts, none of the boxes produced results like Quark’s had, not even the one Odo had on him, which _was_ Quark’s. Kira sent a message to the Vedek Assembly about them and almost immediately got a message back requesting she destroy them. Apparently they were sacriligeous, which suited Odo just fine - the last thing he needed was time travel becoming a new hobby among the station's criminal element. It seemed to suit both Sisko and Kira just fine as well. Sisko left Kira in charge of the destruction itself, for which she enlisted O’Brien’s help, and with Bashir loitering to watch for no reason anyone could tell. The boxes phased out of existence on the transporter pad with nothing but a lingering, eerie hum to show they'd ever been there in the first place.

It all wrapped itself up rather neatly. Except, of course, for Quark. 

Odo suspected the future Quark - who had become the present Quark the moment the present Quark went back into the past, as if things weren't confusing enough already - had been skulking around observation decks and the Habitat Ring to avoid running into anyone. It would have been a smart move to avoid contaminating the timeline, except he was probably only trying to avoid Odo, and would have happily colluded with his past self on wagers he knew the outcome to otherwise, regardless of the possible risk. It was Quark’s nature. Without Odo to rein him in, he’d get in over his head every time. 

Still, Quark could be cautious. He stayed away for several more hours before the lure of yelling at his employees became too much and he skulked back to the bar. 

Odo had been waiting for him there long enough that Morn had tried to make conversation with him twice, which was long enough for Odo to almost be relieved to see Quark, despite the circumstances. Morn didn’t know when to take a hint and stop talking. “Quark,” Odo said. 

Quark stopped dead in his tracks. “Odo,” he responded, then continued around to the bar. 

Odo followed him. “Copying sacred relics of Bajor is against Bajoran law,” he said, mostly to say it. “And unauthorized time travel is against Federation law.”

Quark’s shoulders hunched. “Good thing I didn’t copy any relics, then, isn’t it?” He said. “And the rule about time travel only applies if you do it intentionally. I checked.” 

Of course he had. “I’m watching you, Quark,” Odo meant to say. Instead, he said, “not going to kiss me again?” 

Quark finally whirled around to look at him. “You started that!”

“From my perspective, _you_ started that,” Odo said dryly. 

They stared at each other, each of them frozen in place, unable to move away from each other. That only left one possibility.

This was ridiculous. Morn was watching them like they were his favorite holonovel. Any minute now, the bar was going to fill with the night crowd.

Still, Quark said, “so _you’re_ not going to kiss _me_ again?” 

It sounded like a challenge. And, Odo thought as Quark rose up on his toes and he bent down to meet him, he never could resist a challenge from Quark.


End file.
